


Rebirth

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e19 Broken Arrow, Episode: s03e20 The Fallen, F/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: When Ra's al Ghul's attack falls on another of Oliver's loved ones, it has unintended consequences.





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone. This idea is one I've been playing around with for a while, so I finally decided to sit down and write something out for it. I can't remember if Laurel was in on the "Roy fakes his death" plan or not, but considering how often Team Arrow doesn't tell her a damn thing I figure it's safe to set this in an AU where she wasn't made aware. Thus, she takes a different action that ends up affecting the plot. Hopefully that makes sense, and also that you enjoy this alternate version of events!

Laurel went to the loft as soon as she heard the news. It seemed impossible for Roy to be gone so suddenly — that hadn’t been the plan at all — and she knew Thea would be taking it hardest of all.

Her younger friend’s eyes were red-rimmed but dry when she opened the door, and Laurel immediately came through and put her arms around her.

“I just got word. I’m so sorry, Thea.”

“This just keeps happening,” Thea murmured. “I mean not even a couple months ago, Ollie was gone. But Roy’s not coming back.”

Laurel rubbed at Thea’s back and remained there until her friend pulled away. She followed her over to the high table where a wine glass sat by a half-empty decanter.

“Sorry.” Thea put the lid on the decanter, eyes downcast. “I’m not really good company right now.”

“That’s okay.” She set her purse down on a chair as Thea walked around her to put the wine glass away. “I’m here for whatever you need. If you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to talk.”

“Yeah, that’s probably—” Thea dropped the glass with a gasp as she looked past Laurel, and Laurel spun around to see what had caused the reaction.

She’d only seen him briefly before as they had ran from the police helicopters, but Laurel would know him anywhere. Ra’s al Ghul stood in the sitting room of Thea and Oliver’s loft.

“Do you know who I am?”

Thea swallowed once. “You’re the Demon.”

“I am the Demon’s Head. As those were before me, and very soon, your brother.”

Laurel shook her head. “Oliver will never take your place.”

“He will. Once I’ve given him sufficient motivation.” His gaze never wavered from Thea. Laurel moved to place herself in front of her friend.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not happening.” She’d already lost one sister to the power play of the League of Assassins, and she’d be damned if she lost another.

Thea darted to the side where Laurel had a feeling she’d stashed a weapon, but Ra’s moved swiftly to block her way. He grabbed her wrist when she tried to strike, but Laurel caught his own arm when he went for Thea’s undefended side. After that, it was a flurry of fists, jabs, and kicks, faster than could be kept up with. She and Thea were running purely on instinct and adrenaline, while Ra’s seemed to have the next several steps in this deadly dance already mapped out. He wasn’t even breathing harshly, and his face was a mask of calm.

She had thought Nyssa the best out of anyone, and yet her mentor’s father was in a class of his own, easily blocking both their hits and striking back. He knocked Laurel back into one of the brick support beams, and the wind rushed out of her, defenseless. But Ra’s instead turned towards Thea, his focus still on her. His intent was clear, and there was little either of them could do to stop him on their own.

They needed an edge.

Her eyes landed on her purse sitting on the chair. The device Cisco had made her was still in its casing inside. Laurel pushed up onto her feet, running and pulling it out. There was a crash as she fastened it around her neck, and Laurel wheeled around to see Thea falling through the shattered coffee table. Ra’s moved forward, unsheathing his sword, and Laurel prayed this would work.

She let out a scream, more glass exploding all around them as Ra’s reeled back, his hands over his ears. He glared in her direction, a fleeting break in his unaffected visage.

Laurel walked forward, standing between him and Thea once again.

“You’ve made some improvements to the Canary’s weaponry,” he stated. “It won’t save you.”

“Maybe not.” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. This was the man who had nearly killed Oliver. She’d be a fool to think she’d fare any better. “It just has to save her.”

Thea was rising back up gingerly. “Laurel...no.”

“Get out of here, Thea.” Her friend stood there, and Laurel hardened her voice. “Go!”

Ra’s lunged before she could be sure Thea had listened, and Laurel was immediately on the defensive. It was clear the game was over now, and Ra’s was no longer toying.

Laurel risked precious seconds to turn the choker back on, and only barely blocked another attack. She opened her mouth to activate the sonic device a second time and the cry resounded, but Ra’s arm twisted upwards with a flash of steel.

“ _ No! _ ”

It felt like nothing. She was aware of the cut, of the blood that spurted from her throat, of the breath that was suddenly a struggle to draw. But it felt like nothing.

Laurel staggered forward a step and was caught by the Demon.

“Your sacrifice was honorable. May your friend feel the same.” He murmured something, words Laurel couldn’t understand, as he bent to lay her on the floor.

Her friend.  _ Ollie. _ Her heart sped up, though it hurt. Maybe she hadn’t had the training, but she’d protected his sister. He wouldn’t be joining the League.

In her blurring vision, she saw a smaller figure — Thea — lunge at Ra’s. He batted her away easily with one hand. Then he turned and walked away. Thea appeared again before her, but Laurel blinked and it was darker, harder to see.

Her body was limp and growing numb. All she could register were two arms around her and a voice crying her name. She wondered if Sara had known that last comfort, too.

—-

Oliver had just reached the lobby of his and Thea’s building when his phone began buzzing. It was his sister, and Oliver sighed. He felt guilty she hadn’t been there to see Roy off, but at the least he could assure her that his now former partner had not died in prison as the team were leading everyone to believe.

“Hey, Thea—”

“Ollie?!”

Thea’s voice was utterly shaken and echoey as though he were on speaker. Oliver frowned and changed course from waiting for the elevator.

“Thea, where are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m- we’re in the loft. But Ra’s — Oh God, Ollie, there’s so much — there’s so much blood. I don’t know what to do. Laurel!”

The wailed name pierced him like a shard of ice through the heart. He threw back the fire door and raced up the stairs.

Oliver burst through the door to the loft and found a wreck. Shattered glass littered the floor, and by the fireplace were Thea and Laurel. His little sister had removed her shirt and bunched it up to press to Laurel’s neck, and it was already deep red with blood.

“Please, Laurel, stay with me!” Thea was sobbing. “Don’t go, too! Not you too!”

He was frozen in the doorway for a moment, unable to accept what was happening in front of him. Laurel couldn’t be — she couldn’t.

The time was ticking on. Oliver forced himself into moving, dropping down to the rug beside Thea and taking Laurel’s hand. It was still warm. He dug around in his pocket for his phone.

“We need to get her help. We need…”

But his thumb hovered over the 9. Calling an ambulance meant Captain Lance finding out. And this would kill him.

Oliver went into his contacts instead, pressing the phone to his ear and gritting his teeth as he waited for it to be picked up.

“Oliver?”

“John, bring the medical kit to the loft. Now!”

Thea was shaking with her sobs, and he gently placed his hands over hers to take over holding the shirt to Laurel’s wound.

“Are you okay?”

His sister managed a nod.

“Where’s Ra’s?”

“He left. He- he just left me here. He only came here to kill me, and now Laurel — it’s my fault, God, it’s my fault!”

“No. No, Thea, it’s mine.” If he had just accepted Ra’s offer from the start, the Demon Head would not have continued to escalate things so far. The people killed by the imposter Arrows would be alive, Roy would still be here, and Laurel wouldn’t be hovering on the brink of death.

God, how could he have let this happen? His eyes were stinging as he looked at her. This whole year they had been at odds, all over his efforts to try and protect her. Yet she had been the one to place herself between his sister and certain death. Just as a hero would.

“Just a little longer, Laurel,” he said, his voice wavering badly. “Please.”

It couldn’t end this way. She was stronger than this; he knew she was.

“Laurel.”

Oliver turned his head at the sound of John’s voice. Their friend had come through the open door and now hurried to join them.

“What happened?”

“Ra’s.”

John worked quickly, carefully peeling back the cloth just slightly to get and look and retrieving the right set of tools for the patch job they had to pray would save her life. “Okay, on my count, you move, and I start stitching.”

Oliver nodded.

John was still watching him. “You’re going to have to let go, Oliver.”

“I know.” He was hardly able to choke out.

“One, two, three.”

He pulled the shirt and his hands away despite the panic at the thought of just letting Laurel’s life slip away, and John was immediately blocking his view as he started closing up the wound at her neck. He wasn’t sure if seeing or not was better, if it made the panic less.

Thea had her arms wrapped around herself, shaking still as she cried. Oliver reached toward her but stopped as he took in both of their appearances.

He stared down at his hands, red with Laurel’s blood. Thea had it on her hands, her arms, her clothes were stained with it. There was too much blood.

He couldn’t do anything for Laurel while John was working; that was in his hands. But he could take care of his sister. He could try.

Oliver got to his feet and pulled her up, half-leading and half-carrying her to the bathroom. He started the shower while Thea methodically stripped down and stepped inside, her sobs still occasionally breaking out. Oliver scrubbed at his hands in the sink. The skin felt raw by the time he finished, and he tossed the soap bar in the trash. He couldn’t look at the rusty color it had taken on.

He went back out to the main room. There was both calm and panic within him now. The world was either over or it wasn’t. Only John could answer as to which.

His friend was sitting back on his heels, his shoulders hunched and the gloves stripped off. He looked up at Oliver’s approach.

“Help me move her to the couch. She should be comfortable.”

The tone wasn’t promising. Oliver swallowed down a lump and moved to slide his arms as gently as possible under Laurel. He cradled her close as he and John walked the short distance and laid her back down. Without thinking, he reached to brush some of her hair out of her face.

“Had to take this off her first to put the bandages on.” John held out a black choker Oliver had never seen her wear before. It had something on the front, with a tiny light still glowing. His fingers traced over it for a brief moment. “You recognize it?”

“No.” He took it from his friend and placed it beside her. Then he drew in a breath. “Will she be okay?”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Oliver. She could have swallowed some. We don’t even know if there’s been damage to her windpipe. There’s no telling if she wakes up from this.” John shook his head. “A hospital would put her on life support. From there, it’d be a question of how long to delay the inevitable.”

His heart was lead, sinking deep within him. Laurel’s smile, the pitch of her voice as she railed against an injustice, the warmth in her hugs, those had all been ripped from the world as she herself slowly slipped away from them all.

Oliver couldn’t remember the last thing he’d said to her. She had gotten him out of police custody. Had he thanked her? He’d been so worried about Roy…

John placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Oliver.”

Something dripped onto the floor in front of him. Then again. Belatedly, Oliver realized it was tears, and his own.

She didn’t deserve this, dying for his family. Even as much as she cared for Thea in her own right. But he could just picture the stubborn set to her shoulders, the fire in her eyes as she faced down Ra’s al Ghul himself. It was absolutely her, and Oliver had always known that.

And he’d dreaded this sort of end all the time.

He turned away from John and Laurel on the couch, his hands pressed over his mouth to hold in some sound. Losing Roy, even as he lived, had been bittersweet. Losing Sara, again, had been sudden and wrenching as always. But Laurel...it was too much. She had been with him too long. When he thought of Starling City, she was first in his mind. Because of him, they were all losing her.

As he stared out the high windows trying to wrest back control over his emotions, something caught his eye. Purple smoke was rising in the distance. Maseo.

John had followed his fixed gaze and was frowning at the smoke as he came up to his side. “What is that? The League?”

“He’s won,” said Oliver. Whatever the next stage of Ra’s plan was, Oliver knew it was over for him. He had already lost too much in trying to resist. He couldn’t withstand any more. One way or another, as Slade had said at their last meeting, there would be no more Oliver Queen.

“What do you mean?” John asked him.

But Oliver didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and left the loft. He had an assassin to meet.

—-

As soon as Oliver left the bathroom, Thea shut the cold water off completely. Steam rose all around her as her skin was scalded, but she didn’t care. It at least let her feel something. The water pooled at her feet was red, and then brown, and then clear as it disappeared down the drain, and part of her wanted to pretend that meant everything was fine. That there had been no fight, and no blood, and Laurel wasn’t-  _ wasn’t _ —

Thea stood there until the water ran cold, and then stood there some more. She was shivering as she staggered out and wrapped herself in a towel. Then she wandered out to the sitting room again, only to stop as she took in the new circumstances.

Oliver was nowhere to be found, but Felicity had joined them. She stood by Diggle, speaking softly, though the two fell silent and looked around at her.

“Is Laurel…”

Diggle nodded to the couch where her friend was laid out. She looked far too pale, even as her mouth still hung slightly open like she’d just nodded off. Not been cut down right in front of Thea just like her mother.

She screwed her face up, trying to hold in an anguished scream. With the others here, she couldn’t break down. Instead, Thea tried to focus on something else, and caught sight of the choker sitting beside Laurel on the cushion. She wasn’t really sure what it was, but she knew that it — and Laurel’s intervention — had likely saved her own life.

Carefully, Thea took it and refastened it around the woman’s neck. She deserved to have it.

“Where’s Oliver?” She asked the room at large, her voice wavering but calm.

“He saw some signal from the League. Went to talk to them,” Diggle answered.

“Why?”

“We don’t know.”

“We need to find out,” Felicity insisted. “He can’t just leave us, John. We can’t let that happen.”

Thea didn’t know what to think. Oliver wouldn’t join the League after what Ra’s had done. He couldn’t. There had to be something else at work here.

She took the stairs up to her room, pulling on the first clothes she came across in her closet. Then she sat on her bed. It didn’t feel real. It was like time had stopped the moment that blade had connected with Laurel’s skin. She couldn’t be dying. What would they do?

Thea couldn’t say for how long she sat there staring at a wall and willing herself not to think anything. But abruptly, she registered raised voices, and one of them was her brother’s.

“The Pit’s real. I’ve seen it. It can save Laurel.”

“Right. But only if you become the new Ra's.” 

“Okay. Well, even if a magic hot tub were not crazy talk, we're not going to let you go and join the League of psychotic murderers, even if it is to save Laurel.”

Her heart jumped and she hurried from her room to the top of the steps. They could bring Laurel back?

Oliver had a small travel bag and was wrapping a blanket over Laurel with the clear intent to transport her. Diggle stood a couple feet away, arms crossed, while Felicity was right at her brother’s side and trying to catch his eye.

“Oliver, if you accept the League’s deal, we’ll lose you. I’ll lose you.”

“If Lance finds out about this, Oliver’s through either way,” Diggle grudgingly pointed out.

Oliver straightened and turned to face the other two. “Felicity, John, I don’t  _ care _ about what happens to me. A deal with Ra’s is the only option that is going to save Laurel, and it is the only option I am going to take.”

“Well, what- what about Thea?” Felicity asked, and Thea felt both her eyebrows raise. “You said you’d do anything to keep her safe, and you’re just going to leave her behind while you become an assassin?”

Oliver hesitated, and that was when Thea went for the stairs.

“Do I get a say in this?” They all turned to look at her as she cleared the last step and kept going until she was right in front of Oliver. “The League can save Laurel?”

He nodded. “I have to agree to be the heir if they do.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. This was the furthest thing from an easy decision. Oliver was her brother, her only family — the only family she felt all that willing to acknowledge lately, anyway. The last thing she wanted was to lose him.

But Laurel...Thea opened her eyes and met his. “She’s always been there for us.”

“I know,” he agreed softly. His decision was made. And even if Thea’s word could stay him, she couldn’t give it. If she could take the punishment in either his or Laurel’s place — but the world didn’t work that way.

“Then let’s go.” For however long she could be, Thea was going to be right there with him.

Despite her clear objections, Felicity got them access to Ray Palmer’s private jet, and within hours they were cleared for takeoff. She stuck by her brother’s side as they crossed the tarmac to the plane.

Before they could board, a familiar voice called out. “Oliver.”

Thea turned with apprehension to watch as her father approached them.

“I would not do this if I were you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Thea’s fists were clenched at her sides. She wasn’t even surprised he already knew the whole story. “You don’t care if other people die for you.”

“I care about you, Thea,” he insisted. “And your happiness. If Oliver goes to Nanda Parbat tonight, you will lose your brother forever.”

Oliver shifted to stand slightly in front of her, a barrier between her and her father. “Spare me the act, Malcolm. If you cared at all for your daughter, you wouldn’t have forced her to kill her own friend. You wouldn’t have set the League in motion to tear her life apart.” There was tension in every line of him, like he was only barely holding himself back. “Laurel was right about you. You brought this on me, on Thea, on Roy, on Sara, and on her. You are a  _ poison, _ ” he spat. “And I am through protecting you.”

Oliver turned and resumed his stride towards the steps of the plane.

“I’m going with you if you’re taking my daughter to Nanda Parbat.”

“Like hell you are,” Thea said, and it was a relief and a rush to watch his eyes widen in surprise. “You really think after everything, just because we’re related that makes us family? I’m going to Nanda Parbat to get my real family back, and you’re not welcome. You’re not welcome in my life ever again.”

The relief was only greater as she left him standing there. Whatever ties Malcolm might have been trying to build between the two of them, he had severed them all on his own, and it was past time for her to make that clear.

“She won’t be the woman you knew and cared for, Oliver,” he called after them. “The Pit changes people in their  _ soul _ .”

Oliver’s frown deepened, but otherwise, he acted as though nothing had been said. Thea followed his example and entered the plane.

—-

The ride was mostly quiet. Thea sat beside him, a constant presence and comfort. In the next aisle were Felicity and John. Felicity in particular looked troubled, but there was nothing he could say to change that. He had to go forward with this. If he didn’t, he couldn’t live with himself.

Sometime during the flight, Thea nodded off on his shoulder, and Oliver nearly thought he had too when he just barely picked up Felicity’s voice. “Would Laurel even want this?”

“Hm?” He sat up straighter.

She was looking right at him. “You joining the League. She fought Ra’s to keep him from getting at Thea, who he was obviously planning to use to pressure you. Isn’t doing this, I don’t know, disrespecting her wishes?”

He frowned. “I’d rather have Laurel alive and angry with me than dead. She can yell at me all she wants after the Pit heals her.”

“But for how long, Oliver?” John asked. “You’re gonna be with the League.”

That was true, and, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t putting much thought into what being with the League would be like. He just knew he could endure it if she was safe along with the others. He’d survived hell for five years with that thought in mind; he could survive this.

When they landed, he woke Thea and then went to collect Laurel. She was totally limp in his hold, and a part of him had to wonder what would happen if the stories weren’t true and the Pit didn’t work. Oliver pushed those thoughts from his mind as quickly as they came.

They were greeted outside the fortress by countless members of the League and Ra’s al Ghul himself, and Laurel was taken from him by Maseo.

They next time they were all gathered was before the pit. Laurel had been placed in a white gown and was laid out on a board attached to four ropes. He was given one, John another, with Maseo and a fourth League member taking the remaining two as Thea and Felicity both looked on.

A priestess came forward to start a chant in Arabic that was then picked up by the rest of the League while they slowly lowered Laurel in. His heart was in his throat as she disappeared below the surface.

The chanting abruptly ceased, and it was totally still. Even the waters of the Pit.

Oliver held his breath, waiting. In his head ran a mantra of  _ Come on, Laurel, come on. _ It had to work.

The waters began to bubble and roil again, and the ropes were suddenly ripped from their hands. Oliver stepped forward, peering into the waters trying to make out anything at all.

And then he was knocked flat onto his back as she leapt straight out of the waters and several feet in the air, landing in a crouch at the edge of the Pit with her hair hanging in her face.

He almost didn’t have the breath to ask, “...Laurel?” He was echoed by Thea.

Laurel looked up, but there was nothing but pure, animal rage in her eyes. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl, and her head snapped in one direction and the other before fixing on the Demon Head. She opened her mouth and let out a scream.

It was like nothing Oliver had ever heard or seen. Because it could be seen.

Waves of air, energy,  _ something, _ left her mouth and hit Ra’s squarely. He flew back, slamming against the far wall and slumping to the ground. Several assassins rushed to his sides. Others ran to grab at Laurel.

She struggled, growling and kicking out. Oliver pushed back onto his feet and hurried to reach her.

“Laurel, Laurel! Don’t hurt her!”

The priestess snuck in under someone’s arm and injected Laurel with something. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped into his arms. Oliver held her close, unnerved and terrified to let any of the League members near her.

Especially when Maseo pronounced for all to hear, “Ra’s al Ghul is dead.”

Oliver turned to see the Demon Head lying in a crumpled heap, blood trickling from his ears. The scream that had come from Laurel had killed him. Oliver looked down at her, asleep in his arms. What had he done?”

Thea hurried to his side, and the others were not far behind her. “Ollie, what happens now?”

He had no answer. But Maseo did.

His former friend left Ra’s and walked to him. “Now the chosen heir becomes the next Ra’s al Ghul.” He knelt in front of Oliver, and the rest of the League followed suit.

This wasn’t at all what he had expected or wanted. He had hoped that in agreeing to become the heir, he could buy some time to think of a new strategy to end the League’s control over his and his loved ones’ lives. But without that window in between, where did that leave him?

His first priority was making sure that Laurel was actually alright. He lifted her fully into his arms again, heedless of the water that dampened his own clothes. “Where can she rest?”

Maseo stood back up and led them all to a bedchamber. As they walked, John came to his side.

“Oliver, what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know yet. We figure out what’s happened to Laurel first.”

“Or if she’s even Laurel?”

He didn’t reply.

—-

This had been a terrible idea. She’d known it from the start. But had Oliver listened? Scratch that, did Oliver  _ ever _ listen was the better question.

The men all stood outside as Felicity helped Thea to dry Laurel off and change her into some clothes Thea had packed for the trip. They were a little small on Laurel, but none of them had wanted to risk stopping by her apartment or otherwise running the risk of encountering Captain Lance. Though imagining what he would have to say now, Felicity wondered if it wouldn’t have been better for him to stop this whole thing from happening.

Laurel hadn’t come out of the Pit, that much was clear. She wasn’t sure what had, or how it had managed to kill Ra’s with a scream, but it had. So now some unknown entity was possessing their friend’s body and Oliver was the de facto Ra’s. Truly a brilliant plan.

They got not-Laurel into bed and let Oliver and John back in the room. Oliver went straight to Laurel’s bedside, his brow creased with worry. Watching him was causing a sinking sort of sensation in her gut, so Felicity went and sat on an ottoman, John coming to stand against the wall beside her.

No one seemed ready to really talk, and the silence stretched on for an uncomfortable while.

With a gasp and terrified cry — not accompanied by eardrum-shattering waves this time — not-Laurel sat up with no warning. Felicity jumped in her seat.

Oliver reached out to touch their panicked friend’s shoulder. “Laurel? Laurel, you’re okay. It’s okay.”

Her gasps for breath slowed as she took in the sight of him. “Ollie?”

Okay, so that did sound like Laurel’s voice, and she did clearly recognize Oliver. Maybe it wasn’t a full possession, then.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” A full smile broke out on Oliver’s face. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing Laurel. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. Where are we?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Thea, standing on the other side of the bed. “We’re just so glad you’re okay.”

But Laurel shrank back towards Oliver. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Thea froze, and everyone else in the room seemed to collectively hold their breath. “Laurel, it’s- it’s me. Thea.”

“Thea?” Laurel shook her head slowly. “That can’t be right. Thea’s only twelve.”

Felicity felt her eyes widen, and she looked down as Thea backed away seeming totally lost.

“Ollie, where’s my dad?”

“He, um, he had to work. So did your mom.”

“And Sara?”

There was another terrible pause at the innocent question. It was almost too much to stand.

“She’s not here right now, Laurel. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” It was clear by her tone that Laurel merely thought her sister was out somewhere else and not dead. “Did you cut your hair?”

“Uh—” Oliver sent a brief, panicked glance back at the rest of them. Felicity just sighed. This was his choice, his mess. 

“I like it.” Laurel was smiling; warm, open, even a little flirty.

And Oliver’s voice sounded entirely too soft as he replied, “Thank you.” The sinking feeling in Felicity’s stomach was getting worse.

“What’s the matter?” A slight pout formed on Laurel’s lips. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Oliver lied. “You’re fine. Why don’t you try and get some more rest?” He helped her to settle back against the pillows and pulled the blanket up over her chest. But Laurel pushed back up again slightly as he made to step away.

“Ollie? You won’t leave, will you?”

There was something absolutely shattered in his gaze. And Felicity knew without question, it was his heart. Her eyes fell shut.

She could still hear his response. “No. Never.”

And he really never would. Not fully. For some part of Oliver, Laurel was always going to be the dream. That goal he single-mindedly strove towards. Why else would he have used Felicity, and not Laurel, as the bait for Slade? Why else had it been Laurel who had gotten through to him last year when he’d been intent on committing suicide? Even whenever he said he gave up on her, that was never really the case. And it never would be.

She had wondered for some time if his hesitance to begin a relationship with her had only been because of the dangers of being a vigilante. It had felt like such a ridiculous excuse to use when only hours ago he had been ready to start a relationship while being a vigilante and when she had been in danger plenty of times before. Perhaps, on some level, he was aware that he wasn’t fully committed, not when he still harbored feelings for Laurel. No matter who Oliver was with, Laurel was always going to be the woman he loved. Even if he claimed to love Felicity, too.

Why should she have to settle for that? Why would she  _ want _ to?

Ray had been willing to say he loved her. Full stop. And she’d been too conflicted at the time to know her answer, but she could say for certain now that that was what she wanted. Someone whose past was in the past and who could commit himself fully to her.

If she wanted to be happy, history showed that long-term that didn’t seem to be something Oliver was capable of. Especially with his new role as Ra’s al Ghul looming over them all. Felicity could only be glad she’d wised up to that now rather than later. She wished she could be glad they had Laurel back now, too, but how much good was it if she’d lost a sizeable chunk of her own memory in the process?

The first thing she was doing if and when they got home was calling Ray. Maybe it wasn’t too late to salvage things.

—-

Disoriented didn’t cover her experience waking up. Laurel groaned, one hand going to her head and the other reaching blindly for her bedside table — which wasn’t there. She sat up, pillows flopping off the sides of a bed she didn’t recognize, in a room with stone walls and medieval-style decoration. Where in the world was she? She’d been at Oliver and Thea’s loft—

The loft. Ra’s.

Her hand left her head and instead felt around her neck, but there was nothing. No wound. The skin was completely smooth. But she had been cut.

Then was this…?

Before she could become too panicked over metaphysics, a large and heavy looking door swung open, with Oliver coming through it wearing some sort of robes.

“Hey, I’m here.”

“Okay.” She blinked, but he was still in the robes. That wasn’t necessarily a good sign that any of this was real. “Where’s here? And where’s Thea?”

He paused. Laurel felt faint.

“Is she okay?” Had she failed to protect her? How could she be alive if Thea was dead?

“She’s- she’s fine. I just don’t know if you — do you remember waking up earlier?”

Laurel shook her head slowly. “The last thing I remember is fighting Ra’s...I thought I died.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You sort of  _ did _ ,” Oliver stated. “In a manner of speaking.”

Laurel stared at him. “What does that mean?”

“Ra’s mortally injured you in your fight. He sent Maseo to tell me that if I agreed to be his heir, he would use the Lazarus Pit here in Nanda Parbat to restore you to life.”

As crazy as that sounded, some of the details in their surroundings and the clothes he was dressed in were starting to make a horrible amount of sense. “Oliver, tell me you didn’t.”

“I had to.”

His tone wasn’t angry. He hadn’t even raised his voice. And yet, in this moment more than any other, she could tell just by the look in his eyes that there would be no room for argument.

There were running footsteps outside, and they both looked as Thea appeared in the doorway. She hung there a moment, something uncertain in her gaze.

“It’s okay,” Oliver told his sister. “She remembers.”

“Oh, thank God.” Thea ran up to her bedside and leaned over to hug her. “We were so worried about you!”

Laurel returned the embrace, grateful to see her unharmed, but looked over to Oliver for some sort of explanation as to Thea’s momentary hesitance.

“You woke up once and had some memory issues,” he said. “You’ve been asleep almost a whole day since then.”

A whole day. Thea released her and Laurel took a moment to rub at her temples with both hands while she processed just some of what she’d been told. Then it hit her.

“Nobody called off work for me, did they?”

Thea gave her an incredulous look which Oliver mirrored before letting out a short laugh.

“No. No, we forgot. Sorry.”

There was a light knock, and she looked to see John and Felicity in the open doorway. They walked further into the room, with John remarking, “Looks like you’re doing better.”

“You guys came, too?”

“Of course we did,” Felicity answered.

“We’re a team,” John agreed. “And the team needs to make some decisions right about now.”

Right, the League. Oliver.

“How long do you have before you officially become the heir?”

Most of the others exchanged a look, but Felicity spoke up. “Oh, no, they’re skipping over all of that entirely. He’s Ra’s al Ghul now.”

Laurel blinked. “Wait, what?”

Oliver’s eyes were more on the blankets than on her as he said, “When you came out of the Pit, you weren’t exactly yourself. And something happened. We’re not sure what.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t happen again,” John added.

“What do you guys mean?”

“Ra’s died,” Thea stated, and Laurel felt her mouth drop open. “Because, um, you attacked him. Not- not physically, just — it was like what you used in the loft, only  _ more. _ ”

What she’d used in the loft? The sonic choker Cisco had built her. She felt around her neck once more, but it wasn’t there. Yet they were saying Ra’s was dead. She had killed him.

She wondered dimly if this was how Thea had felt when she’d learned the truth about Sara. Try as she might, the memory just would not come. Why had she done it? And how?

“Thea, what are you talking about?” Oliver asked, breaking Laurel from her thoughts. “You’ve seen it before?”

“Not exactly. I didn’t think of it till just now. When we were fighting Ra’s, Laurel got out that choker and it could make this really loud noise.”

“It had one of Sara’s sonic devices attached to it,” she explained. “I asked Barry’s friend Cisco to rework them for me when he was in town a couple days ago. I hadn’t had the chance to use it in the field yet.”

“You weren’t wearing it when you went into the Pit,” John said. “And it wasn’t just noise that came out of your mouth. I mean, you could see it.”

“Sonic waves, visible to the eye,” Felicity stated. “At the close range you hit Ra’s with them, it was enough to kill him. Not that — no one’s blaming you for it, Laurel. I mean, we’re not even mourning him, really.”

“It just means that I’ve ascended the ranks of the League a little faster than I was expecting to,” Oliver said.

“Well, we can’t just leave you here to run the League,” she insisted.

Felicity nodded. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Worst case scenario, we find somebody for you to train up really fast to be the next heir.”

Oliver frowned. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen over a long weekend, guys.”

“Do we know if there’s other options for a Ra’s to step down?” John asked. “What if you abdicate?”

“To who?”

“I don’t know, you’re on pretty good terms with that Maseo guy,” Thea remarked. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it does,” Oliver replied. “If the last few years have been any indication, the League can have a serious impact on all our lives. To leave it in the wrong hands is only going to hurt us in the long run.”

That much was true. They were all quiet for some time.

“Nyssa,” Laurel blurted. “She’s trained for this role her entire life, and she’s a good person.”

Oliver thought that over. “It’s probably the best we can hope for. I’ll have to check if Maseo thinks the League will accept that. And Nyssa will have to come back to Nanda Parbat.”

“Let’s hope she wasn’t too attached to her dad,” John remarked, and Laurel felt her insides squirm unpleasantly. There was little excuse for it, but she kept forgetting that Ra’s was dead, and by her hand. It just sounded impossible. But he was dead, and there were consequences to deal with as a result.

One of those consequences might be losing yet another person in her life. Nyssa was her friend, and, horrible as he’d been, Laurel had killed her father. Would Nyssa even want to see her, let alone help them once she learned this?

“So, hypothetically, you could take the plane back with us to Starling since you would be on a mission to relocate Nyssa,” Thea said with a grin.

“I could probably swing that.” Oliver grew a little more serious as he addressed the whole group. “We need to be ready to move once I announce my decision to the League. I don’t want any complications. I’ll meet you four at the plane.” He paused and turned to her. “If you’re okay to move.”

“I think I am,” she answered. “I really don’t remember the Pit or- or anything you all have told me. But I feel fine.”

“Okay.” He helped her out of the bed, and as she left the warm blankets Laurel realized she must have been placed in one of Thea’s sweaters. A fair bit of her midriff was showing, and she couldn’t help wrapping her arms around herself as she stood in the cooler air of the room.

“Are you cold?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Oliver looked to John. “My jacket should be in the room with the rest of our stuff.”

John nodded. “Right.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “I can make it to the plane.”

“Laurel, we didn’t know if you were going to live a day ago,” Oliver reminded her. “And considering we’re still not sure what exactly the Pit did, I don’t want to take any risks. Please?”

“Okay,” she agreed quietly. It was sweet of Oliver to be so concerned, though she’d have to be on guard for what qualified as risks. She wasn’t just giving up on being a part of the team, no matter how dangerous it was. What would be the point of getting her life back if she didn’t live it?

She followed Thea, John, and Felicity out of her room and down a corridor to the room they must have set up in to wait, where she was given back her shoes and handed Oliver’s jacket. It was a good deal warmer, and it provided a level of comfort hard to define. Mostly because she didn’t want to define it.

“If this all works out, we have gotten so lucky,” Felicity commented as she hefted a bag onto one shoulder. “I mean, again, I’m not saying I  _ wanted _ you to have to kill Ra’s, but if he’d still been here to order Oliver around, I was going to have to do something drastic.”

“I just can’t believe he agreed to this at all.” Becoming Ra’s went against everything Oliver had been trying to accomplish since he’d left killing behind as the Arrow.

“Well, he didn’t feel he had any other choice.” Felicity had stopped moving around, and Laurel stopped as well. Her friend had an almost solemn look to her as she continued, “He really cares about you, you know?”

It took Laurel a moment to reply. “I know. He cares about everyone.”

Felicity smiled, but it wasn’t her usual bright one. “Yeah.”

“Everybody ready?” John asked from where he stood in the door. “Don’t want to get left behind in this labyrinth.”

“Definitely not,” Thea agreed. She reached out for Laurel’s hand, and Laurel took it while reaching back for Felicity as well, glad to see a reassured smile on her friend’s face at the touch.

John led the way out, and as they emerged she found herself blinking in unexpected sunlight. She hadn’t even known what time it was, and truthfully wasn’t entirely clear on what day it was, either. It was a rocky path down to the plane that they had to take, which Thea and Felicity seemed to feel she needed help navigating. As much as she could understand their worrying, Laurel knew it would only be a matter of time before she started to feel smothered.

They all stood around outside the plane, none of them wanting to board without Oliver, and after a while they spotted him jogging down the path back in his usual clothes. He looked far less weighed down in them than the League robes, she noted to herself.

“I’ve left Maseo in charge until Nyssa’s return. If she agrees,” he added. “I think she will.”

“We better hope she does, cause we don’t know too many other assassins.”

“Just Malcolm,” Laurel couldn’t help remarking with obvious distaste.

Oliver glanced down. “Actually, Malcolm’s not likely to be in the business of doing me any favors at the moment.”

Laurel crossed her arms. “No?”

“Ollie kind of let him have it before we left,” Thea revealed with smirk. “You should’ve seen it.”

She didn’t really know what to say. It had been such a blow when she’d realized he was willing to keep Malcolm around in spite of what they knew about his part in Sara’s death. Laurel hadn’t wanted to believe it of him; she’d felt as if her heart had broken with betrayal all over again.

Yet as he peeked up at her with his head still slightly ducked, she could see him again. The boy she’d once thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. The man she still, impossibly, loved.

“So...going home now?” Felicity asked, and it was hard not to jump a little as she came back to herself.

“Right,” Oliver agreed. “Let’s go.”

They all started to board. Laurel took one last look up the path towards Nanda Parbat, a place she had never really been to but defined such a huge portion of her life. And had consumed her sister’s.

“Oliver.” Laurel caught his sleeve, keeping her voice low as she said, “If this Lazarus Pit can bring people back from the dead…”

She didn’t even have to finish her thought. Oliver sighed. “I’m not sure using it again is a good idea until we know what the full effects of it on you are.”

The brief flare of hope she’d had for a moment cooled, but Laurel couldn’t necessarily argue with that. Emerging from the Pit had caused her to kill a man, and she wouldn’t want to subject Sara to something irreversible until they knew more. Yet still, in the event that there weren’t anymore side effects moving forward, there was possibly a way to fix things. To get her sister actual justice by undoing the injustice in the first place. That was enough to keep just the tiniest spark of hope alive for now.

She let Oliver show her up the steps and headed with him down an aisle. Laurel took the window seat and was only a little surprised when he placed himself next to her. As the plane started up and took off, she could spot him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Do I seem like a different person?”

He leaned back slightly. “You’re asking me?”

“You know me,” she replied.

Oliver sighed. “I don’t think so. When you first woke up, I thought maybe. But that seems to have cleared up since. We’ll just have to see.”

“What happened then?” Had she thought she was someone else? Had she still been violent like they said she was when she’d first come out of the Pit?

He shrugged. “You just thought it was about seven or eight years ago or something. Didn’t recognize Thea because you could only remember her from when she was younger.”

“Oh.” She tried to imagine what that would have been like, or what she would have been like, rather. “I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?”

Oliver gave a slow shake of the head. “Nothing comes to mind. Uh, but you did say you liked my hair.”

Laurel winced. “Did I?”

“Yeah.” They cleared some of the clouds, and Oliver allowed himself a smile. Across the aisle, she caught Thea watching them from her seat, a fond look on her face. Laurel turned her face towards the window instead.

“Laurel.” Oliver’s hand landed over hers on the armrest, and there was a slight hitch in her breath.

She kept her gaze on the clouds. “Yeah, Ollie?”

“I don’t know how to tell you how glad I am you’re still with us. And even if I had had to become the Heir, it was more than worth it.”

She glanced back at him. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” he insisted. His hand still rested over hers, and his fingers curled around it ever so slightly. “You are always worth it.”

Laurel felt a smile spread over her lips she had very little control over. “Well, so are you.”

Whatever else happened in their lives, that wasn’t going to change. She settled comfortably into her seat, happy to have just a few more quiet hours to spend with him and the others before seeing what awaited them next back home.


End file.
